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Here I was swinging in the middle of the night. The sky is dark. I see no stars perhaps I should have worn my spectacles.
Yes, I feel I should mention that I'm legally blind without my glasses.
It’s a shame really, everyone in my family has impeccable vision, and clearly I was the black sheep of the family.
I’m currently in the Park outside my building. The park was designed in such a way that the play area was in the middle, with the sand box, the slides, the jungle gym, the seesaw and of course the swing that I’m currently sitting on and around it was the jogger’s path.
The park was a colorful place in the morning and evening. In the morning both the old and the young were in a race to stay fit, it was a fun sight to see while I drank my morning coffee; my fourth cup to be precise, I was hopeless without coffee and I needed at least four cups to get my eyes to open. The remainder of the day the amount of coffee I consume is almost sinful to list.
In the evening the park was made vibrant by the little children that lived in the building. I simply and absolutely adored children, some days I'm even tempted to go to them and ask them to include me in whatever little game they have going. But almost always I refrained from doing so, simply because, the last thing I needed was to get a restraining order from their parents. So I simply settled for watching them from my balcony, like the hopeless stalker I was capable of being. But not the kind of stalker with bad intention.
I was a good human being. Or so I'd like to tell myself.
The park for me at night was my own sanctuary. It was where I came to find peace and to get away from the humdrum of my life. As I swing on the swing made for the little children in the building I can't help but think. It was funny how I managed to do that with the music blaring loudly in my ears. I swing like my life depended on it, my feet touching the dark sky, my head falling back with every push and pull moment.
Childhood truly is blissful, so I thought. But don't get me wrong I'm no child I'm a grown 28 year old woman. So what was a grown woman doing playing pretend?
Good point.
I tend to lose track of reality when I'm swinging back and forth. It's the only time I don't feel the need to ball my eyes out, pull my hair out or stab someone in the face.
That's two ‘out’ and one ‘in’ motion. Yes. I tend to have such varied and colorful interests.
So why was I trying to escape reality? Well for starters it's because I simply could. I didn’t need anyone’s affirmation to do so. I am a grown woman after all. There I go again reaffirming that point.
I've always believed that one could escape reality by tapping into ones childhood memories. It's when one is the happiest. Back then there wasn't a pressure to perform, a need to feel content or simply the need to buy new clothes for every occasion. Well I take the last statement back, I did feel the need for new clothes even then, I was greedy that way. But back then I would be content with shoving mud down my throat. Maybe a little less exaggerated than that, but yes when I was a kid I did enjoy a good shoving.
Somehow escaping the real world, or more precisely my world I felt I could breath. Never realizing I had been holding my breath since the day I met Mr. Pain-in-the-ass or more so commonly known as Mr. Husband.
Yes not only was I a grown woman playing pretend, I was a married grown woman playing pretend. I like how the entire sentence put together can rile one up and also amuse them at the same time.
Where do I begin? Perhaps I should start from the part when we first met. Or perhaps the time when I was forced into marriage.
I shut my eyes swinging harder and the memories of all those times come flooding back into my head. Tears well up in my eyes at how my life has turned out this past year. The tears flow relentlessly down my face. Both my flooded mind and face are in sync. The both of them must have a secret pact to act in unison. Damn those traitors.
Thud! That's all I can remember from my first meeting with Mr. Pain-in-the-ass, yes he does have a name, but I'll tell you in a bit, let me live this moment. Thud, yes that's how I met him. As strangers we met for the first time. By the second meeting we were married, not blissfully.
For our very first meeting we agreed to meet at a restaurant in order for me to escape in case the mister turned out to be a creep. A public place could help avoid a scene and even allow my narrow escape from the clutches of death. Maybe it was a lot more exaggerated then I let on.
We met for the first time, in order to get to know each other before we were tied together for the remainder of our lives. Or so I'd believed. The restaurant was a quaint little café called Rendezvous, ironic isn’t it? As soon as we were seated the waiter appeared suddenly, rushed in, took our order and disappeared the same way he appeared, suddenly. He must be a huge fan of Houdini I make a lazy mental note.
The both of us sat awkwardly still wondering what to say to each other, how to function. Just like the fast track waiter, our union was also fast tracked, I remind myself.
After an uncomfortable silence that seemed to last for a decade, I could see him scrunch up his face as though to tell me something, he loosened his tie. That was a beautiful tie, it was in a deep shade of blue and I instantly fell in love with it. The tie. To be precise blue was my favorite color, any shade of blue was welcomed by me.
I'm sipping on my water, hoping to not be the first one to initiate this awkward conversation.
“I have a girlfriend”, that's the first thing he says.
I cough violently and maybe even choke on the water a little. My eyes are bloodshot from the intense coughing. He pulls the glass away from me and directs me to breathe, and I do just that.
I was always obedient that way, precisely why I was in this situation. I remind myself.
Once I'm calm, I glare at him, hoping to get my thoughts, 'If what you've just said is a joke, then please die', across.
He waves his hand dismissively as though he's understood what I've just conveyed.
“It's not a joke”, he affirms immediately.
I raise my eyebrow waiting for an explanation as to why I was wasting my precious time talking to someone who was already been spoken for.
“I have a girlfriend, but she is not in the position to marry me. Right this instant”, he adds the last bit very quietly.
“So?” I ask as though demanding why it's relevant to me. Now would be the right time to admit that I myself have no interest in this union, I was not against marriage or men. It simply wasn't the right time for me. That's how I had always seen it.
He nods in understanding. “You and I both know we're simply stuck here”' he points to me and then to himself and pretty much the whole situation, “But, hear me out”.
I look at him demanding him to go on and make it worth my time. Time was money. That is what I believe. At least that is what it is, in my profession. I'm a Lawyer to make it clear, not a psychiatrist. We both charge heavily and by the hour. To make that clear. I feel that both the professions are rather similar, we both probe people to divulge the details of their distress. We hear them out for long periods of time, offer our expertise and wise knowledge to help them get over their respective distress. Only in the former profession our distressed people are called ‘Clients’ while in the latter they are called ‘Patients’. But we're the same, similar; problem solvers.
“A contract”, he says and now I'm interested, you've all probably guessed why. “We stay married till it's convenient and get out of it when my girlfriend is ready or when you find someone suitable”, now I'm offended at the last bit. Who does he think he is? Of course I'm desirable, how dare he? That arrogant little shit. A part of me knows he did not mean it the same way I had taken it, but still. That arrogant piece of shit. I huff inwardly.
'This has been weird and it was certainly not nice to meet you”, I say while standing up abruptly. Thud! That's the infamous thud I'd been mentioning about at the beginning. The Houdini waiter had yet again appeared out of nowhere and I had bumped into the tray of food placed right over my head. The contents of the tray had fallen all over me and a little bit had landed on his flawless navy blue suit, which also I'd fallen in love with by the way.
There was pin drop silence and it felt like it would last forever, but I was wrong. Mr. Pain-in-the-ass burst out laughing.
It was hardly of concern that there was a small bump forming on my head, the part which made contact with Houdini’s tray. It was at that moment I knew I was screwed. I'd fallen right then and there and I knew I'd fallen hard for Sasuke Uchiha.
My thoughts are back to present day. I'm still swinging violently. Not even an inch closer to clarity. I simply needed a distraction from everything. I hadn't realized somewhere he had become just that, my everything.
In an instant I'm on the ground, a sharp pain on my backside. I have a lot of explaining to do as I so brilliantly managed to break the swing meant for the children. I remind myself that I’m a Lawyer and I’d be able to wiggle my way out of this one. Even offer compensation for the broken swing. The children would be disappointed tomorrow. I feel a tiny bit guilt about their reaction.
They certainly don't kid you when they say it's for children. Curse the manufacturers, grown people are also human and they like to swing in the middle of the night. The manufactures would hear an earful about people and their late night feelings; Oh! And they certainly will hear it from me.
I fall with a loud thud to the ground and the only thing louder than the thud, my glorious thud, was the sound of his laughter that fills the empty park. I hate him so much right now. I hate myself more for feeling glad.
How could one person fill up an open space? I still fail to understand that.
But for now let this mark the beginning of my story. The story of little old clueless me or more commonly known as Hinata Hyuga.